


House of Cards

by ToxicTrxgedy



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Happy ending though, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, its mostly inner dialogue and stuff idk, stan and bill ignore their deteriorating relationship or their 'house of cards', uhhh hating father time, what is communcation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 04:45:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15834015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicTrxgedy/pseuds/ToxicTrxgedy
Summary: "A house made of cards, and us, insideEven though the end is visibleEven if it’s going to collapse soonA house made of cards, we’re like idiotsEven if it’s a vain dream, stay like this a little more…”ora stenbrough song fic





	House of Cards

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh this was written for a friend of mine oh and the song is House of Cards by BTS

“It’s at stake again, it’s dangerous again  
So bad why, we are, yeah  
To withstand it more, to sustain it more  
So hard hard, it can’t

It wasn’t unusual for the two to have days of fits of stubborness. Maybe it was how Stan kept cleaning Bill’s things or how Bill never cleaned out the spoiled food. Or maybe it was how Stan buried his emotions deep and let them explode in an impulsive decision, or maybe it was how Bill often let his demons consume him at times. And at those times, Stan couldn't see but a hollow shell of a haunted brother and son. This time, they were walking with around each other with hesitant toes. And Stan could feel that their house was falling.

Even if I knew already  
I can’t stop  
No way no way no way  
As time passes  
It just becomes more ruined  
No way no way it’s collapsing again

But Staniel was a silly man who hated conflict and creating problems he deemed trivial. However, do not assume the man thinks his relationship trivial. But he’d rather lay under Bill and in his arms, feel his skin against his and Bill’s lips kissing places only lovers could ever see. The sweet everything’s whispered in his ear in a tone only Stan would ever hear. The house mocks him. He sees it collapsing. But he’s a silly man who refuses to help it, in fear of something he cannot put a word on.

A house made of cards, and us, inside  
Even though the end is visible  
Even if it’s going to collapse soon  
A house made of cards, we’re like idiots  
Even if it’s a vain dream, stay like this a little more

Bill liked to pretend that the world was kind, gentle to the souls that roamed it, and was beautiful. And maybe, he lied to himself, maybe it was at one time. His friends often credited Richie for being the flamboyant actor of the group, but it was Bill who often pulled on a convincing smile for his friends. He was the leader after all. They all looked up to them and he could feel it and it was suffocated and he couldn't breathe. It wasn’t like that with Stan. Stan didn’t see him as a king, he saw him as an artist who associated red with blood and balloons. And Bill didn’t have to be ashamed of his silent tears in the night or how Bill held him. He saw their little house as perfect, intimate, and only something they could enter. He was an idiot, and he knew that. For no house had an unbreakable foundation.

As if there’s no such thing as tomorrow  
As if there’s no such thing as a “next time”  
Right now, in front of my eyes, everything without you  
Is a terribly pitch-black darkness

People say artists see the world differently. Some say artists are morbid and are depressed at heart. Some say they’re crazy or insane. And Bill laughs because he’s all of them. He laughs because the part of him that’s insane shows in the way he looks at paper boats and yellow raincoats. Maybe…? And he’s depressed because Bill prays to God, and he laughs again because only someone who's insane believes in a God after everything he’s seen, that he can see the world in color instead of grey. And he does with Stan. Most times. Other night, when the claws of it cling to his mind and dig themselves into his deepest memories and fears, he sees the world and all its dull dull dull ugliness and black.

I say it like a habit  
We won’t work in the end  
Even so, I keep hoping  
As long as I’m with you in the end as well, I’m okay

Stan’s mind is filled with Bill’s scent and his touch and his love as they do what only lovers do in the night. But afterwards, his mind is filled with his family and what they used to say about people like him. How his father was a good man who taught him how to let birds perch on his shoulders but never let Stan be what he was. And he still doesn’t know what he is. Bill, he thinks, knows what he is. Even it is the part of the mournful brother and the king with a broken crown. Stan chuckles, and he remembers anyone else would've been horrified with themselves at such thoughts of their lover. We won't work in the end, he thought to himself. But for now, I’ll lay with him and pretend I’m the gentle rain that can pour away his demons in his cloudy world. Stan decides he doesn’t mind playing that part. 

Even if I knew already  
I can’t stop  
No way no way no way  
As time passes  
It just becomes more ruined  
No way no way it’s collapsing again

Bill thought of Stan of a work of art. Maybe a prince for he knew no one else who could attract a bird to rest on his finger. Maybe he was selfish, or maybe he was vain. For he considered himself lucky that he was the one that got to kiss his lips and his fingers. Stan, to him, was light. He was there if only you remembered he was and there even when you didn’t. He thinks of time as a cruel bastard on the other hand. Because to Bill, time ruined everything. It made things old and dirty and it made relationships thin and bore. It made promises meaningless and it took everything. So he ignores it as it starts to take Stan away from him. And he reasons Stan deserves better than him so he tries to let it happen without resistant. But Bill is an idiot who’s selfish and he screams and he pleads with time. Only for time, to laugh and the house to creak and crack.

A house made of cards, and us, inside  
Even though the end is visible  
Even if it’s going to collapse soon  
A house made of cards, we’re like idiots  
Even if it’s a vain dream

Their house is warm and Stan considers himself lucky to be able to see the sun hit his lover’s features early in the morning. How could something that lets in something as beautiful as the sun and his lover be so broken? Persephone was a gorgeous spring goddess who was let into the ugly and cruel underworld. But then again, she was already quite cruel on her own, thought Stan. He and Bill weren’t cruel, however. Maybe their house is ugly and cruel and only the other makes it beautiful for the other. But it’s collapsing and Stan smiles bitterly at his childlike hope and arrogance. He thinks their house perfect. That no one could compare. But their house is fragile and it's all going to collapse sooner or later. 

Slow down the time  
Please stay for a little more oh  
Please Baby Calm down  
Just a little more

Richie, with his questions, sometimes ask Stan what power he would have. And he would answer he didn’t except, he did. He’d control time. More specifically, he’d slow it down. To let himself see the morning sun on his lover. Or to see Bill sketch or to see him chuckle at the tv. Maybe he could speed it up as well. To make it fast enough so Bill could easily be done with his night terrors as easily as they came. Or maybe it was because Stan couldn’t bear to see him in pain. Most importantly, however, he’d stop time to just have a little more of it to be with him. 

More precarious more dangerous  
We are so bad so bad yeah  
To endure to support more  
So hard as it falls again ah

People like us don’t get happy endings, they both thought as they held one another in their bed. People like us fight our family’s and our childhood for our other. Maybe so hard that’s it’s doomed to fall apart even when they grasp it. Bill smiles gently as he feels Stan’s curls against his forehead as the boy kisses his nose, and they think, screw it all. Their house may be breaking but at least they’ll stan on the very last brick. And fall and fall until they get stubborn again and build a new one. How bad they were, ignoring fates sadistic plans.

A house made of cards, and us, inside  
Even though the end is visible  
Even if it’s going to collapse soon  
A house made of cards, we’re like idiots  
Even if it’s a vain dream, stay like this a little more…”


End file.
